Clipped Wings
by Saya Moonshadow
Summary: Linh Peony is fourteen years old when she is cursed.


**I've been spending the last week or so writing this one down in a notebook during my breaks at work. Finally today I had enough time to actually sit down and type it up on the computer, and now here it is! Most of the dialogue is taken from **_**Cinder**_**, just a heads-up.**

**To keep with the fairy tale theme, I chose to have a few elements of a particular story in this fic, though I'm aware **_**Swan Lake**_** isn't quite so much a fairy tale as the others that Marissa Meyer uses in her canon. According to Wikipedia, it was inspired by a story called "The Stolen Veil" and also possibly "The White Duck", but I must admit I am unsure if this is true or not. That being said, it's a lovely ballet and the music is wonderful. Anyway, enough rambling, so please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognize as canon most likely belongs to me unless otherwise noted. **_**The Lunar Chronicles**_** and all related canon belong to Marissa Meyer.**

**Clipped Wings  
By: Saya Moonshadow**

"Now, suck in your stomach...there," says the seamstress.

"The neckline should be lower," comes the more imperious voice of Peony's mother.

"Of course, Linh-jiĕ," says the seamstress.

Peony pays neither of them any heed, too entranced by the lovely silver of her new gown to care about much else. In the artificial light of the lamps in the apartment's living room, the fabric shines like moonlight on water. The stitching holding it together is hidden to the point of seeming nonexistent, and the pattern is elegant: flowers, stitched in shiny white thread, just like her name. Oh, and—the sleeves! Well, they are not yet made, but when they are complete, they will resemble wings, delicate wings that she hopes will look both beautiful and natural.

Pearl may be willing to brave the cold night in short sleeves or no sleeves at all, but Peony is _not_. She'd very much like to be _warm_, thank you, and she imagines the lofty ballroom in the palace of New Beijing will be very cold indeed. Plus, the forecast promises rain for that night, making the chances of cold all that much higher.

So, while Pearl shivers her arms off and wishes she had sleeves, Peony will be nice and warm with her wings that are not really wings.

The only thing that would make this picture any better is the presence of their middle sister, though both Pearl and their mom like to pretend that Cinder is only a burden on them, not truly part of the family as Peony _knows_ she could be if only they would give her the chance. It's ridiculous, really.

She wonders what color Mom will have Cinder's dress be. Bronze, to go with the gold and silver theme she and Pearl have? No, bronze wouldn't go well with Cinder's skin or hair, she immediately decides. Maybe white, then, or blue? Cinder would look pretty in blue, or—oh! Red! Red would be a _great_ color for her to wear! It is also considered a lucky color, and if there's anyone who needs a little luck, it's Cinder.

Peony nods, pleased with herself for her smart thinking. As soon as Cinder gets home, she'll tell her to ask Mom for a red gown.

...or maybe black. That would also be a pretty look for her sister to wear—a shiny black gown that sets off the tan of her skin and swishes about her feet like shifting shadows. Peony finds she likes this idea even more than the previous one.

Cinder (along with their android, Iko) arrives home not five minutes later, and though she is at least two hours early, Peony is glad to see her. She excitedly points at her gown, just barely keeping from squealing when Cinder grins at her in approval.

She has just opened her mouth to suggest the black dress to her when Mom interrupts, demanding to know why Cinder is home so early in the day.

Cinder explains that the market was closed down early, and though that is unusual, Peony decides it's OK so long as her sister is safe and unharmed. She bounces with excitement when Cinder mentions to Mom about her own gown, and is just about to make her suggestion when the dressmaker pipes up. "Another dress, Linh-jiĕ? I did not bring material—!"

Her mother interrupts again, and Peony blinks, momentarily laid off her notion, but this is still OK. They'll just have to...buy Cinder a dress later instead. She will even go along to supervise, because it has to be admitted that, while she loves her dearly, her sister is not fashion-conscious _at all_, and she wants her to look super pretty during the event!

But Mom puts a damper on this, too, at least for the moment, and Pearl's comments obviously don't help Cinder's frustration.

Peony rather sympathizes, giving both her mother and older sister a look that one of her classmates has informed her is properly called the "stank eye". When they're not looking, of course, but Cinder sees it and some of the anger in her face clears up to make way for amusement.

She wishes she could do more, but keeps quiet as the dressmaker continues to poke and prod at her, and Cinder takes Iko to the closet-sized room Mom had given her when she came to live with them five years ago.

* * *

Unlike her mother and oldest sister, Linh Peony does not blame Cinder for her father's death. Nor for the hundreds of other problems they both seem to think are Cinder's fault for some reason beyond Peony's understanding.

She genuinely loves and cares about the older girl, which is why she wanted so badly to come along on Cinder and Iko's trip to the junkyard. Cinder is fun to be around, and Iko, no matter how much Mom complains about her "faulty" personality chip, is better company than many of the human girls Peony knows.

She's also fortunate, she knows, that Cinder is such a sucker for her best pair of puppy-dog eyes. It takes exactly .33 seconds (according to Iko, anyway) for her sister to give in, and Peony grins as she boards the hover with them and they are at last on their way to the junkyard.

It is there that Peony learns of Cinder's encounter with Prince Kaito earlier that day, and she feels her indignation that neither cyborg nor android bothered mentioning it earlier is very justified. Cinder seems apologetic, if a little amused, so Peony forgives her on the condition that she introduce her to the Prince the next time they meet.

She ignores Cinder's explanations for why this might not work, because she can see the meeting perfectly, and the aftermath at the ball, too. She's well aware that she's a tad too young for the Prince's tastes—indeed, she'd be worried if she weren't—but her fantasy concludes with an image of a seething Pearl, and the idea of annoying her snobby big sister is simply too good to let go of. Yet, anyway.

It will be a wonderful thing, truly—she in her silver dress, will dance with the Prince, and...hm, yes, she'll put in a good word for both of her sisters while she's at it. _"Pearl's not so bad,"_ she'll say, _"and Cinder is the best mechanic anywhere, and she's really pretty when she's not covered in grease!"_

"_You are pretty, too,"_ says her vision of Prince Kaito, and Peony has to keep the excited squeal that bubbles up from bursting out of her mouth. She's now even more ready for the ball to be here than ever, even if Cinder is more interested in some ratty old car they've just discovered than in discussing how to mingle with the Prince. Peony sighs. Cinder is a great mechanic and a wonderful sister, but she's positively blind to the finer things in life.

And then Cinder discovers the spot on Peony's skin, and her idyllic world pops like a bubble.

* * *

The plague.

Linh Peony has the plague.

Letumosis, the curse that's taken so many lives already, is now here for her.

She can't keep from screaming.

* * *

Peony considers it a victory that she at least managed to keep Cinder from catching it as well, but any and all positive thoughts are swept out of her head as the medical hover prepares to take her away. She sobs the whole trip to the quarantine, hysterical and terrified, and can't stop even when the med-droids lift her out and take her to a small bed a ways into the building.

"Please remain calm," one says, though she has not been calm at all this whole time. "This will be your bed for the remainder of your stay. Please do not hesitate to summon a med-droid for any purpose."

"I wanna go home," Peony manages to get out, though the impassive response of "That is not allowed," causes her crying to renew. The droids leave her then, to take care of their other patients.

All around her are people who are dying. She can hear a man a few beds down the row begging one of the deities of the second era for mercy, and feels her stomach contract at the desperation in his voice. It's a struggle not to do the same.

What has she done to deserve this happening to her, Peony wonders, fear and anger beginning to well up within her. Why is this happening to her?

She was going to go to the ball. She was going to wear a beautiful silver dress with sleeves like wings. She was going to laugh with Cinder at the more outlandish fashions, and tell Mom and Pearl they looked beautiful no matter what they actually looked like. The Prince...she was going to meet Prince Kaito and maybe even dance with him...

"I'm scared," she says to no one, feeling a few tears drip down her cheeks. "I'm scared."

This is what Dad must have felt, when he got the plague five years ago just after bringing them a new sister. Mom and Pearl still blamed Cinder for it. They would probably blame her for this, too.

"I'm scared, Cinder."

No one answers her. She doesn't expect them to.

Terrified and exhausted from crying, Peony soon drops off to sleep, curling up under the blanket that the med-droids had given her.

She dreams of wings. Her lovely sleeves that were never stitched and now never will be; she is wearing them but they're really wings, not just sleeves. And she flies, but it's hard to and for some reason she can't flap them enough to stay airborne. They are practically numb; nothing but heavy logs weighing her down.

As she plummets, Peony sees Cinder in the black gown she'd envisioned for her, but instead of dancing, Cinder is running, the skirt of her gown flapping about her legs like twisting shadows, running through endlessly dark and shallow water. Running towards Peony, screaming something—her name?—but before she can reach her, Peony hits the water and sinks like a stone. Sinks farther and farther and farther, deeper than she should be sinking.

Peony jerks awake before she hits the bottom, and she nearly panics at the feeling of water on her face. It's only tears and sweat, but the memory of sinking—of _drowning_— is all too fresh in her mind.

It takes a long time to go back to sleep.

* * *

Peony cannot ever recall feeling so helpless.

She is only allowed a little water and a little food at a time. "We must conserve," says the med-droid when she asks for more, and the knowledge of _why that is_ is sickening in and of itself.

They do not expect her to survive. No one in this quarantine is expected to survive, so why bother giving them more than the barest necessities? To give them more would be a waste, or so it is apparently believed.

The plague also works quite fast, she discovers when she tries to lift herself out of her bed to get a better look at her surroundings. Her arms feel weak, and the rest of her just feels hot, like she's got a mild fever. She knows it will get worse—a simple look around at her fellow inmates reinforces what health class at school had briefly gone into. The thought that soon her fingernails will turn yellow makes her want to vomit, as does the knowledge that once it happens, the end will be all too near.

Peony spends the rest of that morning curled up into a ball on her bed, terrified and trying very hard not to show it or let it control her. She also thinks of Cinder. How is she? Did Mom blame her for this? Or do anything bad when she found out? Peony hopes not, but even the part of her that loves her mother unconditionally will admit that Linh Adri is not very kind to her sister. It would be just like her to pin all the blame on Cinder, just like she did when Dad got the plague.

The plague spots have moved up her arms by now. If she lifts her shirt, she bets she'll find more underneath it. She can't bear to look. Just seeing the awful splotches on her arms each time she goes to wipe at her eyes is bad enough.

Eventually she falls asleep again, and it's a welcome respite.

* * *

Peony is woken by the sensation of a gentle hand on her forehead. Is it Mom? Has this all just been a bad dream? No—when she opens her eyes, she is still in her bed at the quarantine with the sick and dying around her, and Mom is not there. But Cinder is.

Her first reaction is horror. If Cinder is here, then that means she has the plague, too. Peony's victory was a false one—she had not prevented her sister from getting sick at all. But then she notices that Cinder does not look sick. There is not a hint of fever about her, nor a sign of any plague spots. Peony had begun to feel her own fever within half an hour of arrival, and it's been worsening quickly. She can't get cool, but without the blanket, she's _too_ cold.

So then why is Cinder here, if she is not sick? She must be sick. But if not...

She grabs her sister's metal hand to get her attention, something she knows Mom and Pearl would never have done, but Peony is not afraid of a little steel and wires, especially not when it's all covered up with those old gloves Cinder seems almost surgically attached to.

When Cinder looks at her, Peony does her best to give her the puppy-dog look. "Take me home?" she asks, her voice scratchy from the fever.

But Cinder just flinches. "I brought you a blanket," she says lamely.

Peony swallows the fresh wave of fear and disappointment to look at the new blanket covering her. She traces its pattern, trying to think of something to say. _"I'm sorry you have the plague, too?"_

"_Please don't go?"_

"_Let's go home?"_

Before any of these come out, a woman a few aisles away begins screaming and thrashing in her bed. Her struggle as the med-droids inject her with some sort of calming agent scares Peony. Will they do that to her soon? Will she need it? Are they trying to let that woman die in her sleep? She can't stop shaking.

Why did this happen to her?

"I'm being punished for something," she tells Cinder, who looks pained when she does.

"Don't be ridiculous," Cinder replies. "The plague, it's just...it isn't fair. I know. But you didn't do anything wrong."

Peony steels herself for the next question. "Are Mom and Pearl...?"

"Heartbroken," Cinder says. "We all miss you so much. But they haven't caught it."

That's an incredible relief to hear. But Cinder is here, and if she is, then she must have caught it, too. Peony doesn't think she can bear the thought of having doomed another person, particularly not one she cares for so much, as nice as it is to no longer be alone. _Selfish,_ she scolds herself.

"Where are your spots?" she asks. She gestures to the empty bed next to hers. "You can sleep there, right? They won't give you a bed far away?" At least they can stay together. She doesn't want to be alone, especially not if they're both dying. Surely they'll be allowed to stay together in that case, right? The med-droids _must_ let loved ones stay with each other; why would they not?

"No, Peony," Cinder says, clutching her hands and squeezing them. "I'm not...I'm not sick."

Confused, Peony lifts her head, regretting it when her headache throbs. "You're _here._"

"I know," Cinder murmurs. "It's complicated." She explains that she was tested at the research center and is somehow immune to the plague. But that should be impossible. Right?

Peony frowns as she tries to take a better look at her sister's body. Just as she had said, there are no signs of the plague on her; at least, not visible ones. But Cinder is just an ordinary girl, despite the mechanical limbs. How is she safe from it? "Immune?" she asks, just to be sure.

Cinder confirms this, then tells her that the head doctor might be able to use her to find a cure...and that she, Peony, will be the first to get it if he does. _When_ he does.

Relief, intense and nearly overwhelming, washes over her. She is going to be OK. She's going to live! She'll get to go home, to see Mom and Pearl again, and Iko, and all her friends. And go back to school, too! And go to the ball and meet the Prince!

...but only if a cure is found.

She can't keep the tears from coming back with that thought. The cure hasn't been found yet, and there isn't much time left.

"Don't let me die, Cinder," she begs. "I wanted to go to the ball. Remember? You were going to introduce me to the Prince—" She has to stop talking, then, as a harsh cough bubbles up in her throat. More tears squeeze out.

Oh, stars, she doesn't want to die. She doesn't want to die.

Cinder reassures her that she won't let anything happen to her, wiping the thin trail of blood from the cough off her face with the blanket she'd brought, and promises her she's still going to go to the ball. Peony believes her because she must. The alternative...she can't bear to think about the alternative. Cinder will save her. She'll help the research doctor find a cure, then she'll bring it to Peony, and Peony will get better.

Maybe the Prince will come along when she does. After all, he and Cinder are friends now, right?

Putting this thought away, Peony asks for her portscreen and has to hide her disappointment when Cinder confesses that it's still broken. More than anything, she just wants to talk to her mother and Pearl, even if it's not face-to-face.

It takes a lot of strength not to beg Cinder to stay with her just a little longer, but she manages, and tells her sister, "I love you, Cinder. I'm glad you're not sick."

Glad she won't have to watch her waste away like she herself is, and everyone else in this building. Glad because she won't have to wonder if Cinder got sick from her. Glad because maybe, just maybe, she will live.

Oh, stars, she just wants to live.

* * *

She is beginning to lose track of things.

A few hours or so after Cinder leaves, her fever intensifies. Her head hurts, her throat is dry, and no matter how she tries, she can't get warm. This is despite a vague memory of one of the med-droids coming over and taking her temperature, proclaiming it to be 40 degrees C, and Peony must bite back a whimper. You can't live with above 44, she remembers from a fuzzy memory of science class at school, and yet she's still so _cold._

"I want my mom," she begs the med-droid, who stares at her impassively. "I want Pearl. Cinder...is Cinder coming back?"

"Only patients and personnel may enter this building," it tells her without emotion.

She's running out of time. It looks to her as if the letumosis spots on her arms are fading, and is that yellow creeping into her fingernails? Stage four of the plague is coming, and it terrifies her, so she tries not to think about it.

Instead, she thinks of Cinder and the Prince, her feverish mind conjuring up images of her sister commanding a man with no face—the doctor—to hurry and finish the cure while Prince Kaito loudly proclaims that he will deliver it himself, anything for the beloved little sister of his new friend. The thought makes Peony smile.

She has to believe that she will make it. Cinder won't let her die, she _promised_ she wouldn't. And once she's better, they'll go to the ball together in their silver and black dresses, and everyone will stare in awe at Peony's wing-sleeves as she dances. Cinder will be wearing gloves, of course, as she always does, and everyone will finally see her stepsister as more than just a mechanic and their mother's ward.

And Peony will fly, or something close to it, as she dances using the steps her mother had drilled into her and Pearl for the last few weeks. If she's lucky, maybe her sleeves will actually become wings and let her fly for real. She lets out a raspy giggle at the thought.

Prince Kaito will be there, too, and of course he will dance with her—he'll dance with all the girls at least once, but for one dance, he will be with her. She'll thank him for his kindness, and tell him more about Cinder, because stars know Cinder could use another friend besides just her and Iko. _"She's the best mechanic in New Beijing!"_ she'll say. _"Better than any in the palace, and she's really nice...you should hire her!"_

And Peony will fly. She will dance and she will fly, and she will live_._

She doesn't know how long she spends dreaming of wings and dresses and dancing with the Prince, but it must have been quite some time, because it's now darker in here than she remembers it being as the sun goes down. There is another med-droid beside her, its sensor light fixed rather pointedly on her hands.

Slowly, aching with the movement, Peony lifts her hands so she can see them. She has to blink a few times to clear her vision, fuzzy with fever and half-sleep.

Her nails are yellow. The tips of her fingers, blue-black. The spots on her arms have faded to a soft lavender.

It takes a moment to understand what this means.

The med-droid meets her gaze squarely, though she has to focus hard to keep its face from blurring too much. "I will inform your family," it says simply, and turns away.

Peony sinks down under her blanket, feeling like the world around her is muffled, like she's under water. Fourth stage. It's hit the final stage of its cycle, and the cure is nowhere in sight.

Her head hurts, and she's far too tired to cry. The little flicker of hope that Cinder's visit had brought her nearly goes out.

"Help me," she whispers, feeling a few tears squeeze out despite her exhaustion. "Cinder, don't let me die. I want to live."

But Cinder does not come, and Peony lets her eyes close, still hidden underneath her blanket.

* * *

She's woken an indeterminate amount of time later by a voice calling her name.

"Peony!" it cries, but she doesn't move. Her whole body aches, and it's hard to wake up. Everything seems to be moving slower, even her thoughts.

A rigid hand falls upon her shoulder, but Peony still doesn't move until suddenly her blanket is gone. She whimpers then, as the cold becomes unbearable, trying to curl up more but stopping when her body simply won't move the way she wants it too. She can't feel her feet at all.

"Stars, Peony," says whoever just took her blanket away, though the rest of whatever is said is too muffled in her ears to make any sense of.

Peony squints up at the person, but all she can make out is dark hair and eyes, and tanned skin. The Prince? Did he come to bring her the cure like she dreamed he might?

But then her vision clears a little, and she sees that it's not Prince Kaito at all, but Cinder.

Cinder came back. Cinder is here.

Keeping her eyes on her sister's face, afraid that if she takes them off her for even a second then she might vanish, Peony places one hand in view for her to see. _"I'm dying,"_ she wants to say, but her mouth won't respond.

"I know, but it's going to be alright," Cinder tells her, quickly taking out one of her gloves. "I brought something for you. Can you sit up?"

Peony hears none of this, however. The world is slowing down again, and both Cinder's face and words are blurring. Cinder came back. Cinder is...is here.

Her sister tries to help her sit up, but it hurts—every muscle protests the movement, too stiff to do what is needed. Peony groans in pain, just barely hearing herself.

Cinder is talking to her again, but it's too hard to hear her, or see her. Peony blinks slowly, trying to understand what's going on. She's scared, but it's a faraway feeling, one that's almost not even there.

"Mom?" she manages to say. _Where is Mom?_ is the true question. She wants to see Mom and Pearl. Did they come with Cinder? Are they there?

Cinder speaks again, holding a small thing up to Peony's mouth. She places her mouth at Peony's ear and hisses, " A _cure_, Peony! An antidote!"

A...cure?

Then that means...she's saved. She...is going to live. A smile tries to tug at her lips, but they refuse to move. Nothing moves.

It's OK, though, because better than any Prince, Cinder is here, and she has brought a cure. Cinder is here. Cinder loves her. Cinder will save her. Cinder will sa...


End file.
